Friday, February 27, 2009

You know when someone posts a picture of you on Facebook from a party, and you're like "man, I knew I was drunk, but I didn't realize I was that wasted..." And then you have to immediately un-tag yourself so that your boss and cousins don't see?

If not, you may either be too much of a nerd to get yourself into compromising situations every now and then, or else you're so far gone that you have no one left in your life that you need to appear decent in front of. Somewhere there in the well-balanced middle ground lives those un-tagging moments.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Does anyone remember really around what year they started becoming popular? I'm thinking that it was 1995 that they started becoming popular in a hippie-chic kind of way, but by 1998 they had become so ubiquitous that they were basically the only acceptable type of shorts that guys would wear. I think it was around 1999 that they had completely usurped jorts as the official "dude shorts". My basis for this date is a memory in high school of my friend Emily stated that summer that she was on the fence about going all the way with the guy she was dating. She was going to leave it in the hands of fate: if the next time she saw him, he was wearing jean shorts, it was a no-go. Sadly, the next day the jorts were in and the teen lust was out.

So by that math, cargo shorts have been infesting my eyes for ten years now. When is this going to end? Shouldn't fads have a finite limit, like bell bottoms or hoop skirts? At what point will it become retro? In like 2050?

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Monday, February 23, 2009

Brendan suggested I do a post on Oscar parties, but when I started looking at pictures posted online, they were all super depressing pictures of people sitting around living rooms watching TV. But then I was startled to find three separate users who had pictures of themselves at Oscar parties wearing Snuggies. And keep in mind, this is only people who've actually uploaded their pictures from Sunday night already. Who knows how many people spent Oscar night wrapped up in a flammable blue polyester blanket with sleeves?

Friday, February 20, 2009

Ok, I know this picture doesn't exactly fit in with the whole "party photos" theme of this blog, but, well, I did happen to stumble across it on Flickr, and well, it is a few guys who love to party, right? But mostly, I just can't stop thinking about this picture. Hasslehoff and Hagar jamming together? Has God been reading my diary?

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Sure, grandpa wouldn't have minded a shot if someone had remember to offer him one. But he won't hold it against you. I mean, he's not totally crushed and rejected or anything. He's just slowly watching his life slip away, SSI check by check. Not that you whippersnappers would understand anything about what the value of hard work means.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Wow! my bff and I dressed up in our nicest outfits and hung out at an an Indian frat house where the decorations included a roll of duct tape and Tommy Lasorda's old silk jacket. Do you think we looked super sExY??!1!?!! Because if you don't think so, I think you might have to argue with my beer cosy which reads "#1bitch".

Hard Liquor; Soft Holes just reposted a link from Reality No-Show about her friend's new site (are you following?) The Chosen. Made by someone who works at a modeling agency, it's a compilation of the best of the worst random submissions. As someone who prefers my enjoyment of the humilation of others in photographic medium, obviously I think this blog is fantastic. It also took me on a trip down a little cul de sac of dreams I like to call Memory Lane.... (wavy lines wavy lines wavy lines).....

In college, I interned at a modeling agency where my main duty was to update the models' binders with new clippings. The one time I got a really exciting assignment was to help this 15 year old girl from Kansas go around to all her appointments for the day - basically the challenge in America's Next Top Model where they put the girls in an unfamiliar city with some product-placement-sponsored GPS phone and have them audition for various clients. My initial understanding of the assignment was that I was just there to act as the tour guide, since I could her navigate on the subway and around the city. However, it became clear to me after a few of the appointments that all the photographers and casting people immediately assumed I was there to act as the agency's watch guard for the girl to make sure that no one would put this poor underage girl in uncompromising photos or situations, and that was actually the more likely reason I was assigned to accompany the girl.

Her last appointment of the day was at a photographer's studio on the lower east side to get shots to add to her portfolio. It was in a mostly barren tenement apartment with no furniture except a vanity table with makeup, hair gel, and a clothing rack. The photographer made a big fuss about how he didn't want to upset me by picking out an outfit that was too revealing because the agency had sent over a watchdog (me), and decided upon a sequin shirt and nude tights over a thong (no pants) as her outfit #1. Who knows how much less clothing might have comprised the outfit if I hadn't been there to intimidate people into thinking the agency was actually looking out for this girl by sending along a crummy intern to help her out.

The thing about models is that they seem much older than they actually are because they're very worldly for their age, and are astonishingly self-aware. When my young ward put on her assigned outfit, she came out the bathroom, pointed to a large mole on her thigh that showed through the nude tights, and said matter of factly, "sorry, this won't work." The photographer agreed; the mole was a deal-breaker, and more modest opaque black tights were substituted. I sighed relief.

Point is, the thing about back tights is that they have to be really really thick to cover up moles or ungainly tribal tattoos:

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

When I was a sophomore in high school, a junior invited me to be his date at the junior/senior prom (no big whup). To my shock and horror, there was another girl wearing the exact same prom dress as me, and to be honest, she looked better than me. To add insult to injury, her date was this senior I had a huge crush on. But don't worry, this story has a romantic happy ending - two years later, when my crush dropped out of college and moved back in with his parents, he let me give him a handey in the front seat of his mom's Volvo station wagon. Ever heard of a thing called "romance"?

My point is: sure, I wholeheartedly support gay marriage in theory and law and concept. But when you see it in real life, I can't help but think how pissed I'd be if some bitch showed up wearing the same thing as me on my fucking wedding day.

FYI, in case this photo by itself doesn't clearly indicate it's a lesbian wedding rather than some fancy-dress event, please let their NY Times wedding announcement provide evidenence. Incidentally, I was reading the Styles section of the paper at the same time as browsing the most recently uploaded Flickr images, and I recognized them. How weird is that?

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Love is in the air, and I'm too busy working on rough drafts of the prison love letters I'm going to send to T.I. when he goes to jail in a few weeks to find new pictures to post here. So instead, I thought I'd go on a romantic nostalgic stroll through some of my favorite Sorry I Missed Your Party previous posts featuring True Love. If you're like me, you'll enjoy these pictures most the way they were meant to be enjoyed - alone, crying, drinking a bottle Trader Joe's 2 buck chuck, and eating an entire Papa John's limited edition heart-shaped pizza.

Is it me, or are the 18 year old girls they use as bait/narcs for To Catch a Predator getting more and more obvious? Is the whole "I'm just making some frozen margaritas" routine wearing thin, and they're trying to kick it up a notch by just having the girls have armloads of booze?

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Yesterday I was in an elevator with a FedEx delivery guy who had a small roller cart, and I saw that mixed in with the packages were 3 cans of diet Sunkist soda and a bottle of water. I was so impressed with his beverage preparation for the day - nice variety. Btw, have you had orange soda recently? It's better than you remember. Do yourself a favor.

Kind of like this guy, who's got champagne, Sunkist, and a Jagermeister necklace.